It was the morning after a particularily long case that found the detective and his doctor sitting at the kitchen table enjoying breakfast. Well, John was enjoying his. Sherlock was pickily ripping off pieces of toast and chewing reluctantly. One thing had lead to the next and now John was spinning off one of his stories from the war, this one about how John's good friend and him had been scouting out a building when it had caught fire. On the way out, his friend had tripped and broken his ankle, leaving John to carry him from the burning building.

"...everything is just falling apart around us and he tells me to go and get out, save myself," John laughs as he sips on his tea, "Like hell I would leave him there."

Sherlock, who had been sitting and listening marvelously, smiled at this last statement. He understood how the friend must have felt, Sherlock had many times been on the recieving end of John's self sacrifice, it was so like John to risk himself for anyone and everyone.

"I managed to wrangle him onto my back and I carried him out piggy back style," John smiled, his eyes distant, reliving a treasured memory.

"Piggy what?" Sherlock asked, suddenly. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"Piggy back style..." John gestured vaguely with his hands, "You know," John looked at Sherlock incredelously, "I gave him a piggy back," still no recognition from Sherlock. John shook his head, "A piggy back. I put him on my back."


"Please, don' t tell me you've never had a piggy back before," the doctor asked, truly surprised. His mouth hung open as he digested this new tidbit of information.

Sherlock shrugged and took another bite of toast, not understanding why John was so surprised.

John shook his head and ate another spoonful of oatmeal, lost in thought once more. He seemed to debate internally with himself before clearly coming to a decision and standing up, "Come on."

John waved his hand at Sherlock, beckoning him to follow as he walked into the living room. Sherlock slowly dropped his half-eaten toast onto his plate before rising, following John into the living room, "What?"

John went and stood infront of the couch, it looked as though he was about to sit down but he just stood there with his legs pressed against the cushions, "Come over here and stand on the couch."

John looked at him expectantly as Sherlock made his way across the room, still not understanding what John was getting at. He hopped onto the middle cushion and stood there, his confused eyes turned down, looking at John and waiting for him to explain.

"I'm giving you a piggy back, you idiot," John rolled his eyes and aligned himself infront of Sherlock, "Now, put your hands on my shoulders."

Sherlock hesitated until John huffed in impatience as he reached behind his back to grab Sherlock's forearms and forced him to place his hands on his shoulders, "I'm not going to break, Sherlock. It's just a piggy back. Trust me."

Sherlock just swallowed and nodded, his fingers tightening on John's shoulders, "Ok."

"Now, on the count of three I want you to jump and wrap your legs around my stomach. Then, I'll hook my hands under your knees so you don't slip," John doubled over slightly to compensate for the weight that would soon be on his back as he counted out loud, "One, two.."

Sherlock bent his knees as he readied himself, shifting his weight from foot to foot and took in a big breath as John called out, "Three!"

Sherlock leapt off the couch and onto John, his legs quickly coming around to wrap themselves around his stomach. For a moment, Sherlock feared he would fall until John put his hands under Sherlock's knees and jumped a little, positioning Sherlock more comfortably on his back. Sherlock clung tightly to John's neck and shoulders as he looked around. Nothing had changed much, if anything, he felt closer to the ground atop his short friends back, "What do we do now?"

John just laughed, gripped Sherlock tighter and took off. He ran around the flat, up the stairs and around tables. He wondered how silly they must have look just then, giggling like idiots, in their pajamas, running around like school children. John loved it. He would deliberately exaggerate his steps causing Sherlock to bounce a little higher and effectively laugh a little louder.

Alternately, Sherlock was very much enjoying his very first piggy back ride. It was singularily the funnest thing he had ever done with John. He couldn't stop laughing, particularily enjoying when John would purposely make him bounce higher. Sherlock looked down at John then, at the huge grin on his face and the color high on his cheeks from running, and realized this was why he liked John, why John was different.

John surprised him. Did things that weren't expected, crazy things. Like ordering Sherlock to stand on the couch and jump on his back. Like running around the flat while giving Sherlock a piggy back. Like pulling people out of burning buildings, shooting the cabbie, grabbing Moriarty with a Semtec vest on, not leaving. John was his only friend and his best friend.

Dizzy from running and laughing, John slid to the ground and let Sherlock roll off of him. Still giggling like fools, they lay on their backs beside eachother, trying to stop their laughter but failing everytime they looked at eachother. It took many minutes but eventually both men calmed down enough to sit up and lean against the wall, breathing heavily. Sherlock wanted to say many things right then, but the only words he could manage were, "Thank you."

John looked over at his flatmate and smiled, "You're welcome. Now, come here and help me up, I can't feel my legs."